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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650299">World Away</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsoflovingness/pseuds/dreamsoflovingness'>dreamsoflovingness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Ballad of Fire [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ACOSF SPOILERS, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kidnapping, Lucien Vanserra-centric, M/M, Mating Bond, Not Canon Compliant, POV Lucien (ACoTaR), Poor Lucien Vanserra, The Spring Court (ACoTaR), Torture, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:07:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsoflovingness/pseuds/dreamsoflovingness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>!!ACOSF SPOILERS!!<br/>I won't post the full summary until next month-ish, I'm gonna give time for people to read it. Huge Spoilers after the first chapter. <br/>-------<br/>Lucien is sent to human lands to get more information about the human queens from Vassa. The problem is he never makes it there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azriel/Lucien Vanserra, Cassian &amp; Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron &amp; Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Nesta Archeron &amp; Lucien Vanserra, Nesta Archeron/Cassian, Rhysand &amp; Lucien Vanserra, Tamlin &amp; Lucien Vanserra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Ballad of Fire [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. My Life Is What I Make It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I uh...I got my copy of ACOSF Saturday night and I finished it yesterday so...enjoy</p><p>Also since this probably my favorite part of the story, I've named it after one of my favorite songs and the chapter titles will be lyrics from it. the song is "World Away" by Tonight Alive.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was going into the colder Autumn months and Lucien couldn’t be more grateful. He was done with the lingering heat that crawled up their sweaters. Winter Solstice could not come quick enough. The year before he didn’t come down, the laughter and celebrating was still too much to swallow despite the fun he had during the Autumn Equinox. The thousands of promises he made to both Tamlin and Andras had consumed his mind. Andras. He hadn’t thought of him since Tamlin had brought Feyre to the mansion. It was a memory he locked away and never opened again. Yet, Winter Solstice brought it out. How coincidental that him and Feyre shared birthdays. Of course he never told her this, he didn’t know if any guilt lingered but he was not in the right place to find out if there was none. Last time he had spoken to her about Andras had been in Rosehall and it was more of him yelling at her. She was still so closed off back then he wasn’t able to get a good read on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This year he promised it would be different. He would pay his respects to Andras alone then join his mate downstairs with her family. The idea still stunned him. He had a mate who wanted him and a family that was nothing but kind. It was the type of thing he would wish and pray for when he was a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elain wasn’t very upset at him once they both calmed down. When Azriel had brought him back it was the frantic searching for injuries and the tightest embrace they had ever shared. His father had already shared his own theory to him, well not so much a theory as a truth confirmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elain was never right for you,” Helion had said over dinner. Rhysand had tensed, that was his mate’s sister after all. “She could be the kindest, fairest woman in the world but she would not have made you happy. Nor would you have made her happy. This is for the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And honestly...Lucien couldn’t argue. Especially as he watched Elain interact with the Spring Court female she had brought with her to one of their family dinners. She had recognized Lucien when she entered the River estate. He expected her to react like other expatriates from the Spring Court: hardened expression, cold eyes, and the slightest hint of a scowl. She simply regarded him with acknowledgement then let Elain pull her into the living room being occupied for the part. He winced at the cold treatment, not that it wasn’t well earned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know her?” Azriel whispered, the faintest growl in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so, but I can’t be sure,” Lucien replied. He cycled through all the faces from his old court trying to pin her to a name or a family. And when he did his heart sank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Azriel urged when he most certainly felt Lucien’s mood plummet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Andras’s sister,” he whispered, turning away, “fuck, shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Andras?” Azriel questioned, glancing over to ward off any of their other family members who were probably looking for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who was Andras. How could Lucien even begin to answer that? He was the other person in their devilish trio back at the Spring Court, even if Lucien was the last to join. Before him, he was the one who was incharge of the Sentries. If only Feyre knew that by the time she had joined them Lucien had only been leading them for a few days, a few hours if you don’t count the time he had sulked in his room. It was him who held Lucien in the days following Amarantha ripped his eye out and him who halted his hands every time he tried to peel that cursed mask off his face. Tamlin had been Lucien’s friend, his surrogate brother, but Andras was just so much more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How do you even condense someone like Andras into a few words?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fellow Spring Court Fae. Spring Court General. Coworker. Friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lover</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head at the last thought. No, he had locked those memories away for good and he would not be dredging them up now with his mate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be honest with me, please,” Azriel whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not here,” he mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later then,” Azriel said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien was hoping Azriel would’ve forgotten by the end of dinner, too focused on how Lucien steered clear of Elain. He did not want to bring forth another vision. He could go his whole life without it. The focus at that dinner? The glaring empty chair beside Cassian. Lucien had heard from Hemera, who had spied into more than a few letters, that Nesta had plummeted in her progress. It was almost like she had never begun to heal. Regret had simmered in his veins when he returned only to hear she had been sent to the House of Wind to train and work in the library. He knew how that place could feel like a prison when you’re only two options were having someone fly you out or climb down the extraordinary amount of steps to the bottom. A mental note was written to have Azriel fly him up there to see her one day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about Andras,” Azriel had said as Lucien walked out of the bathroom after cleaning up. Alas, luck was never truly on his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was the sentry Feyre killed,” he said, hoping Azriel would leave it at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was more,” Azriel said, “you wouldn’t have tense like that if he wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...he was…” his voice trailed off, sighing and laying down next to him. He couldn’t face Azriel if he was going to do this, but he didn’t stop the Shadowsinger from interlacing their fingers together. He needed to tell him this. If Tamlin spat this information out at Azriel in a fit of rage one day and that was how he found out, he would never forgive himself. “I loved him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel hummed in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I loved him so much,” Lucien felt the tears gather in his eyes, “after Jesminda I never thought...but then Andras was promoted by Tamlin. He quickly became indispensable to Tamlin. At first I avoided him. I knew not many of the Spring High Fae were pleased with having me there, especially since my brothers’ favorite pastime for decades was to terrorize those at the border to try and get me to come. I was always too scared to face them. But Andras never looked at me that way his face was just so blank when he looked at me. I honestly thought he hated me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he?” Azriel asked, propping his head on his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lucien said with a wet laugh, “two Calanmai after he was promoted we got too close to the ceremony. I usually stayed away. But well, that year I didn’t. I quickly found out it was not hate. Tamlin teased us for years after he found us naked in the poppy field. The gardeners were outraged, we had rolled all around it. Tamlin fell to his knees laughing at us. I thought he was going to suffocate from how hard he was laughing. I couldn’t understand why until I sat up and realized how we had fucked not three feet away from the window to Andras’s room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Tamlin wasn’t always awful?” Azriel mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he wasn’t,” Lucien said, “I think...I think that’s why I defended him so long. I wanted the Tamlin who laughed at us and the one who used the tithe offerings to go down the stairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Azriel’s eyes were full of disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One year after the tithe, back then Tamlin didn’t care for it and only did it because his brothers had joked about their father’s ghost going to visit him in his room if he didn’t. Tamlin was petrified of ghosts. Anyways, he was so bored during the tithe and someone brought him a huge silver platter. I saw the light bulb go off behind his eyes and before I could stop him he raced out of the room to test his idea,” Lucien explained, “We were all so young back. Amarantha hadn’t appeared yet and Tamlin was still free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did Tamlin send Andras if he was so important?” Lucien stilled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After Amarantha cursed us, Tamlin changed. He began to withdraw and Andras took over whatever Tamlin slacked off. Especially as the years went by and it seemed like the curse was never going to be broken. At first he was adamant that I had told her exactly what he wanted but as time went on...he began to blame me. He would say if I hadn’t been so crass or if I hadn’t let emotions guide me not only would I still have my eye but we wouldn’t have worn those fucking masks,” Lucien began, “it was supposed to be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Azriel’s voice sounded so broken. He dared glance at his mate. His eyes were so pained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tamlin came to hate me. All that brother bullshit he spouted to Feyre were just that, lies he concocted. Maybe he felt indebted to Andras for being the one to finally bring a woman and he thought he could repay it through me,” Lucien sighed, “we couldn’t spare any more sentries. They began to anger as to why they were the only ones being sent. Tamlin thought one of us going would shut them up. But going beyond the wall never guaranteed return. Tamlin sat us down after dinner one day and turned to me. He told me to strip. I just blinked at him. I couldn’t understand what he was asking. He ordered it again and I felt myself follow his command without realizing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andras demanded to know what was going on. Tamlin told him it was my turn to go and if I didn’t come back with a girl not to come back at all. I froze, maybe Andras scented my fear and that’s why he told Tamlin he volunteered. Tamlin was adamant it was me. Andras begged Tamlin to spare me. He just said it’s what I deserved for dooming us all.” Lucien could feel the tears slip down my face. “He begged for one more night. Tamlin granted us that at least. We both cried as we had sex. I tried so hard to stay awake but Andras lulled me to sleep eventually. When I woke up there was a note on my chest he left and my wrist was chained to the bedpost. I broke my arm trying to get out of the chain but by the time I got free it was too late. Andras was gone and all that was left of him was the note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to take over his duties afterwards. I just….I locked that part away and vowed never to open it. It was not like with Jesminda, there would be no one to help me that time. So I pushed him to the farthest corners of my mind and he stayed there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Azriel’s voice made him look at his mate again. The mate he could’ve never met. He knew if it had been him who had gone Feyre wouldn’t have been as lucky. Andras would have never forgiven her for killing him. He probably would’ve encouraged Tamlin to side with Hybern just to get revenge and it burned his insides as he thought it. “I could’ve lost you before I even had you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Cauldron would’ve given you another mate,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want another mate,” he said strongly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andras would’ve liked you,” Lucien mumbled, “if the bond between us would’ve snapped and he still lived-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you have chosen me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andras would have killed me if I hadn’t,” Lucien said with a smile, “he was a big believer in mates. He reminded me countless times that if his mate crossed his path I would be eating dirt. Big idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more about him,” Azriel said. Lucien sat up and shook his head. How stupid could he be, rattling on about his ex-lover to his current mate?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never talked about him to Feyre. To anyone. You locked him away and never grieved him like you did for Jesmnda,” Azriel said, sitting up and cupping his cheeks, “you loved him, Lucien. That is not something so easily forgotten. Tell me about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” He whispered, a tear streaming down his cheek, “Won’t you be upset?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe him everything for saving you,” Azriel said, the shadows swirling in agreement, “I want to know about the male who saved my mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andras loved the cold,” Lucien said, “he constantly complained that it was always hot in Spring. He’s like Cassian, he said he was always itchy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more,” Azriel encouraged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was petrified of the bats,” Lucien said, “so Tamlin and I once released one in the barracks while he was having a meeting with the sentries. I had never heard him shriek so loud. He pushed his sentries out of the way to get out. I gave him a blowjob later I felt so bad about it.” His face fell. “He wouldn’t have let Tamlin pressure me into doing the Rite with Ianthe. He would’ve taken my place and protected me. He was always protecting me from Tamlin’s rage. I..I couldn’t do the same for Feyre because I was only learning how to weather it as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you told her that?” Azriel asked, pushing a strand of hair from his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. How could I?” Lucien sighed, “I won’t give her more guilt. She already feels bad about what Tamlin did to me behind her back. Telling her she killed my ex-lover? Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To think…” Azriel whispered, “I could have lost you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you didn’t, I’m here aren’t I?” He breathed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank the Mother,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to Lucien’s cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucien always said that Azriel was warm. He liked to curl into it as he began to drift off to sleep. It was usually followed by the hesitant touch from Azriel’s fingers on his skin. The shadows twisted around them as Azriel breathed out, relaxing into the mattress as he pulled Lucien closer. The male, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>mate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that he just learned could’ve been killed by Feyre. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He had spent the last year trying to smother his jealousy over what Feyre and Rhysand had. To have the same thing in his arms felt like a blessing he didn’t deserve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az?” Lucien whispered, making his mate glance down at him. Azriel hummed, tracing the scars that stretched from his forehead down his cheek. “I’m…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can ask me anything, Lucien,” Azriel assured him, steeling himself for Lucien to ask about his brothers. His family. His mother. That was a subject he was definitely not ready to talk about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m scared I wrecked our bond,” Lucien whispered into the darkness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why would you think that?” Azriel asked, cupping his mate’s cheek and moving his face towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feyre told me that when her Rhysand found out they locked themselves in the cabin and didn’t leave for a week. We both know there should be a primal need there but I...there just isn’t. You haven’t made a move and if I’m being honest, I have no desire to do that but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just said it yourself, Lucien,” Azriel said softly, “you don’t want to. You don’t feel comfortable with that and it’s understandable with what you went through. I understand if you don’t want to be touched that way for another century. But do not think for a moment that it is an indication that there is something wrong with our bond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?” Lucien asked exasperatedly, “Maybe we should go see a...a…” Azriel watched as Lucien swallowed, unable to even get the word out. It burned his insides that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>ruined such a sacred thing for him. That the library in the House of Wind would never be seen by Lucien because he couldn’t bear to look at the priestesses even though they shared so much in common. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Lucien,” Azriel breathed, “I know because so many of thoughts are of pinning you to the wall or to my desk and fucking you senseless. The day you are comfortable with it, oh, the fun we’ll have.” Lucien shivered in his arms and Azriel didn’t mention the scent change. “But only when you’re ready, until then I’ll just have to take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair to you,” Lucien said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s ridiculous, Lucien. I won’t make you take care of me if I know that while I’m feeling pleasure you’re in pain or panicking,” Azriel said with furrowed eyebrows, “like I said at the cabin, I’d wait a thousand Starfalls for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s too long, you’ll get tired of me,” Lucien whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Azriel’s chest ache whenever he saw this side of Lucien. The part of himself he hid away behind a fox mask for so many years. So many people in Prythian distrust Lucien, they still think of him as the Fox. And while Azriel couldn’t stop the pride from swelling in his chest everytime Devlon looked weary at the mention of Lucien, it didn’t take away that Lucien hid so much of himself from everyone. He wonders how much he hid from Andras. If anyone ever knew the true Lucien, if the male he was looking at now was a glimpse into the more complex person he knew Lucien was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could never tire of you,” Azriel said and steeled himself for what he was going to say next, “not when I love you so fucking much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien froze. His eyes were wide and mouth hung open a bit. Azriel wanted to capture that expression in his memory for the rest of time. It was the shock that could only come with hearing what you longed most to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I can’t say it back,” Lucien whimpered and sat up. Azriel shook his head, following Lucien. His scarred hands cupped Lucien’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to,” Azriel whispered, lowering one hand and pressing it to Lucien’s chest. Under his fingertips he could feel his mate’s heart thrum. “I can feel it here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lucien breathed, lowering his own hand to Azriel’s heart, a small smile pulled at his lips, “me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they stayed there. Feeling each other’s heartbeats under their fingertips. Two hearts beating as one. Shadows and Fire. Dark and Light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing that could be done to tear them apart. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. This is Not My Punishment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are ACOSF spoilers from here on out so if you haven't read it, STOP HERE!</p><p>If you have, enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“She isn’t as you remember,” Azriel mumbled to Lucien as they walked down the halls of the House of Wind. He hummed in response, smiling at Azriel. His mate just gave him a stern look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az, my six brothers were murderous,” Lucien said, “I don’t think there’s anything Nesta can say that could hurt my feelings, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She knows how to get under your skin,” Azriel said, “and she’s hurting, she’ll lash out before she realizes what she’s said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it gets out some of that hurt or anger she has stored up then I don’t care,” Lucien said, “so are you going to keep taking me the long way or are you actually going to take me to her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Azriel sighed, grabbing both of his shoulders, “I just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Lucien cupped his cheek, “but you can’t protect me from the entire world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I could I would.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one swift movement, Azriel wrapped his arms around Lucien’s waist and shot out of the lower balcony and into the air. Lucien loved to fly with Azriel. In the air there were no responsibilities or obligations. It was just them in the large expanse that was the clouds and the stars. Lucien laughed when Azriel began his descent towards the training grounds on the other side of the house. For a single moment, Lucien floated a bit off of Azriel and in that moment it was as if he had grown his own wings. Looking down at Azriel he admired how the sun reflected in his honey eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel gently set him down before landing. He expected to see Nesta stubbornly refusing to train like Mor had described. Instead he was met with Nesta and four other women training with her. At their arrival three of them bristled. He could immediately recognize them by the hoods and the stones. Priestesses. Azriel cursed softly when Lucien took a step closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien!” Cassian said happily, waving him over to where Nesta stood with two of the women. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to check their training progress,” Azriel explained, “I can take you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” he said stiffly, “I’m here to see Nesta. I’m not backing out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re sure,” Azriel mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t glance in their direction as he walked away. That was fine, they didn’t look at him either. It was like two magnets pushing each other away. So when he eyed the two women Nesta was with and saw no stone or hood he let his muscles relax. Cassian clapped him on the back, welcoming him to training. His eyes examined the women as they whispered to each other while glancing at Azriel. A prideful smirk tugged at his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to see your back, Fireling,” Nesta muttered, eyes narrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleasant as ever, Nesta,” Lucien said with a wink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re back now?” She said, her chin angled up as her arms crossed over her chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back? Where did you go?” One of them asked, curiosity in her blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He went and fucked off at the Day Court,” Nesta answered for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had something to work through at the Day Court,” he said with a tight smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you joining training too?” The blue eyed woman asked. Lucien couldn’t help the shocked laugh that erupted from his lips. The other woman, an Illyrian judging by her wings, glared at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Gods no,” Lucien said, trying to suppress his laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Because we’re women?” The Illyrian spat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No ladies, of course not,” Lucien said, “I am very fucking tired of training.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien is from the Autumn Court,” Cassian explained, “trust me when I say he is very well trained.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I never have to train a day in my life, male or woman, then it would be too soon,” Lucien said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so special about the Autumn Court?” The Illyrian pressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My brothers trained me and they don’t believe in sparring,” he said, “they fight to kill every time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds awful,” blue-eyes mumbled, “but at least it was never dull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right there,” Lucien said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! I never introduced you,” Cassian interrupted, “Lucien, this is Emerie and Gwyn. Emerie, Gwyn this is Lucien Vanserra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“V-Vanserra?” Gwyn asked in astonishment, “A High Lord's son?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely son of a High lord,” he said, glancing at Nesta with a knowing smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to be in the habit of interrupting our training?” Nesta asked, “because if you are you might as well teach us something while you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When Cassian lets you pick up swords give me a call and I’ll teach you how to fight with knives, they’re my favorite,” Lucien said, “but I didn’t come here to interrupt your training. I came here to see you, Nesta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can see me after I finish at the library tonight,” Nesta said, “for now, fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re taking this seriously,” Lucien said, “I thought you’d jump at the chance to get away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I was, would you report to my sister?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Lucien was honest. If Nesta didn’t want Feyre knowing what she was up to at the House of Wind then he’d tell her that he never saw Nesta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After,” she said in a softer tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about dinner then,” Lucien said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinner,” she agreed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I better be on my way. Rhysie wants to meet,” Lucien said with a wink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hates when you call him that,” Cassian said with an eye roll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When he stops calling me Little I’ll stop calling him Rhysie,” Lucien said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Azriel was walking towards them before turning around. It wasn’t the feeling of the shadows getting closer or the bond. It was the whispers between Emerie and Gwyn and how they kept glancing behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to go?” Azriel asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better not flake on me,” Lucien warned, extending his hand to Azriel. The two women watched as Azriel interlaced their fingers, shadows crawling up Lucien’s arm, and pulled him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two disgust me,” Cassian grumbled, “back to work!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel gave Lucien a moment before they shot into the air once more. It was a silent flight to the River Estate. From afar it was breathtaking. On the ground you could appreciate the details Feyre put into the exterior, but in the air it all came together. The gardens in the front, the wide expanse of greenery in the back, the glass ceilings and the path leading towards the front doors. He always wondered what Rosehall would look like from the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t try to touch Feyre,” Azriel warned. Lucien cocked his head, that was an odd thing to say. A few thoughts cycled through his head. He knew Rhysand had reached out to his father about shields, he had chalked it up to finding a way to keep Velaris safe from another attack. Lucien knew better. He was the Fox of Prythian after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he said, with a devious smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I know why,” Lucien said as Azriel set him down on the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhys said he’s practice-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both know that’s bullshit,” Lucien whispered, Azriel hummed in response with a matching devious look in his eyes. “If we’re thinking the same thing then that was quick. I thought they would take a few more years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the way those two fuck, I’m suprised it didn’t happen sooner,” Azriel said, “they haven’t said anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I be honest with you?” Lucien whispered, not letting go of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always,” Azriel assured him, “you do not have to ask, Lucien.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not think bringing a baby into this world is smart,” he mumbled, shame tinting his cheeks pink, “there’s another war possibly brewing and we barely escaped the last one. If Rhys and Feyre die, the baby is an orphan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They both-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az,” Lucien interrupted, “look at their hands, the tattoos on their fingers? They weren’t there before the war. Either those two idiots made more pacts with other prisoners or they made another bargain with each other. Now what could they possibly make a deal over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dying together,” Azriel sighed, “those fucking idiots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could spell out a lot of complications,” Lucien rattled on, “say that we can delay war a few more years, we can’t delay it long enough for the child to grow up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhys is coming,” Azriel warned. They both schooled their faces into indifference as they walked up to the doors. Only seconds later they opened to reveal Rhysand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two have been out here for a while now,” he said, “was the conversation interesting at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very, “Azriel said, making Rhysand’s eyebrow raise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t want to know, unless you want to hear about how when we get home he-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m alright.” Rhysand sighed, his shoulders falling, “We have a lot to discuss, follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paperwork was not mentioned. If it was Lucien would have gladly been the women’s punching back. Hours had gone by and they hadn’t made a dent in all the documents they had to look over. New trade agreements with the other courts, plans brought forward by the Dawn Court about reclaiming the mountain, the recovery progress of the Summer Court and the updates that Rhysand had managed to pull together about the Spring Court. Reading those stung the most. He had spent years protecting those lands and it’s people. Hearing about how it’s barren and the village is void of people made his heart ached. Those people had trusted him. They needed him and he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>left</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is your relationship with Vassa?” Rhysand asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re on good terms,” Lucien answered, “she’s on better terms with Jurian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to pay them a visit. Find out anything you can about the other human queens,” Rhysand instructed. Lucien nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make a stop at the Spring Court to check in,” Lucien added. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not,” Rhysand said. His eyes glowed with dormant fury. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhysand, the other courts are asking for more information on the border. If my father or Kallais goes to report they will not be as kind in their reports. My father might just kill Tamlin himself and carve up the land,” Lucien said, “I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not stay longer than you have to. No unnecessary risks,” Rhysand said, “you still have a lot of life left and a lot more to give to the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien bit his lip, he should stay quiet. He should really not say a thing. Azriel had warned him Rhysand would probably be even more annoyingly overprotective. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been around a pregnant woman with an overprotective male. But he had to know if he was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you wanting me safe has nothing to do with Feyre being pregnant?” Lucien questioned. Rhysand stilled, a deadly gaze landed on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know.” It was an order, not a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First, my eye. I can see through wards and spells. The shield is keeping her scent concealed. Second, my father. I was there when you asked about it. Third, I’m not as gullible as Cassian,” he said, “I mean no harm, Rhys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like you’re lying,” He growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just…” Lucien sighed, “I was born in the middle of a war, Rhys. I grew up in its aftermath. Are you prepared to deal with that if another war breaks out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d have to sit out or stay behind. Unless you want to leave the baby with one parent,” Lucien said. The dark shadow that was casted on his face confirmed Lucien’s suspicion about the new tattoo shared by the mated pair. “Or orphaned if both of you die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough.” His voice shook. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can be happy, you deserve to be. But do not let that happiness blind you,” Lucien warned, standing, “it blinded my mother. She thought she could stay and raise me in the Day Court.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you come back I want you to help me draft the message we’ll send out. I’ll also need your help in drafting war plans. The minute we found out I decided I would not put myself in any unnecessary risk,” Rhysand said, “I do not plan on letting this child grow up without me. And I do not plan on letting it grow up without it’s family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I,” Lucien said, “someone has to be the sane uncle and it’s not going to be Cass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really know how to raise my blood pressure, Little Lucien,” Rhysand said, a tired smile spreading his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve picked up a few things from my father,” Lucien said, turning to leave but turning back, “oh and one more thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to want to get as much as you can now because once it’s born, you won’t ever know peaceful sleep ever again,” Lucien said, “or sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Rhysand said, but his smile betrayed his words. “Don’t you have a dinner to be at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m waiting for my ride,” Lucien replied with a wink, “I’ll be off in the morning. I’ll report once I make it to Vassa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, Lucien,” Rhysand said, “a lot of us are going to need you here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the House of Wind dredged up old memories for Nesta, she never showed it. Whereas Lucien could still see Elain curled in a chair, staring out the window. It was unnerving then and the idea still shook him. What he most certainly didn’t remember was the house being sentient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It likes...romance novels?” He questioned. In response, a novel appeared on the table. Judging by the cover it was one of the more explicit ones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Nesta replied, shoveling down her food. Lucien was half impressed to see her eating at all and half disgusted at how fast she was inhaling it. Even before he left she barely ate so he could only imagine how scarcely she did when he was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you happier here?” He asked. That made her stop and slowly set her fork down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so,” she answered. Her eyes were averted from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not, I can talk to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I don’t want them knowing any of my business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why...you’re the only one who agrees with me when I say that...why?” The look in her eyes when she glanced up at him was so painfully familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could’ve gone my whole life without every move I made as a child was reported to both my parents and all my brothers,” Lucien said, “and I know even after I left, Tamlin would update Eris about how I was doing. I always hated that and no matter how much I begged him to stop he wouldn’t. So I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do sibling want to know so fucking much?” She grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feyre cares about you,” Lucien said, “and I know you care about her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They can go rot in hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t mean that,” Lucien said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t. You love her and that’s fine. You don’t have to like her.” Nesta scoffed as he shrugged. “Or you do and that’s okay too. You’re allowed to be angry, Nesta. What happened to you...it should’ve never gone down that way. I understand if you’re mad at everyone here. They weren’t the most welcoming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fit right in,” she countered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After they took me to Mor’s apartment to interrogate me. What I mean is that they weren’t very welcoming to you. They only saw you as the sister you were to Feyre and ignored what had just happened to you,” Lucien said, “so yeah, be mad. Maybe one day you won’t be, maybe you’ll hate them forever. What’s important is that you’re trying to get better for yourself and no one else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went silent. Lucien was used to Nesta being quiet. But it was different. Out of all the Archeron sisters, Nesta’s silence carried the most meaning. A majority of the time she was cycling through her thoughts until she was ready to say something. Or it came after she lashed out and it was a painful, mournful silence. This time it was pensive, small. She was analyzing his words and their meaning for her before meeting his gaze again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it get easier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. But you learn to live with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel…” she mumbled, “he’s lucky to have you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m lucky to have him.” Lucien saw the way she glanced up when Cassian’s voice carried from the dining room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you deserve him,” he said softly. Her head snapped towards him, a scowl growing on her face. “Even if you think that he deserves better, you’re wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The brute could jump off a cliff for all I care,” she grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Then you’d follow,” Lucien teased. “It’s alright if you care about him. He’d be lucky to have you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continued dinner in silence. It wasn’t aggravated or harsh. The opposite. It was comfortable, nice to have a few moments of peace in a city full of people that always seem to have the need to fill the silence. When they finished the house dropped two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did it go?” Azriel asked when Lucien met up with him near the balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice,” he answered. “She’s doing well, really well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel hummed in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better not say shit to Feyre,” Lucien warned, “Nesta doesn’t want her knowing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Azriel said softly, “now let’s go, you need to rest for tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was still early when he woke up. The sun was barely spilling through the curtains when he rolled over. Lucien loved mornings in Azriel’s apartment. The Shadowsinger always tried to sleep in as long as he could, he always said he never knew what the day would hold and if they would be able to sleep just as sound as the day before. As he watched him lay on his stomach and breathe softly, his face more relaxed than it ever was when he was awake, Lucien hoped thousands of more mornings like this. He traced Azriel’s features with delicate fingers. If only he could stay a little longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was dressed and ready he sat down on the bed next to Azriel. His mate turned until he was facing him with a sleepy smile. Lucien pushed some of hair away from his forehead as they just watched each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Lucien whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be waiting for you here,” Azriel mumbed tiredly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien decided he wouldn’t make Azriel wait long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned in, gently resting his forehead against Azriel’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cupped his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he pulled him closer until their lips were pressed together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel’s hand rose and cupped the back of Lucien’s neck, guiding them. Eventually he pulled away and Lucien trailed kisses across his jaw to just where his neck began, then back to his lips. Azriel smiled as Lucien pressed another soft kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t make you wait long, promise,” Lucien said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.” He didn’t respond, he just pressed another kiss to Azriel’s swollen lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Winnowing to the Day Court didn’t exhaust Lucien, but he still stopped on the border with the Dawn Court. If he had more time he probably would’ve stopped to see Helion, but if stopped and his father began to talk then Lucien would not get a single thing done that he promised Rhys he would. Maybe on my way back, he thought, I could stop to see him. Just a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he breathed in, looking up towards the sky and let the sun coat his cheeks, before winnowing again. As he felt the usual rush of wind that it entailed, he let out the breath he was holding. He appeared again at the edge of the Spring Court. If he still had his horse maybe he would have just ridden the rest of the way. But he promised Azriel to be home that day and he really didn’t feel like running. So he winnowed again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he was reaching Rosehall, he felt something dig its claws into his shoulder. Lucien cried out. He tried twisting away from it but all that did was rip his soft flesh. Blood sprayed against his cheek as he felt the solid ground underneath him. Nothing was above him, nothing around him. A guttural growl made his head snap up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tamlin was there in his beast form, growling at something behind Lucien. Just as he was about to get up it slammed him to the ground again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tam!” He cried out as it tried to drag him away. Wind rushed around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, no, no! He could not let them winnow him away. He had to stay. He couldn’t leave the Spring Court. Another scream ripped through his throat as they pressed down on his wounded shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tamlin please!” He screamed, reaching his hand out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tamlin roared, lunging at whatever was holding him down and for a moment he felt relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t last long. There’s no fight because Tamlin was too slow. Whatever it was grabbed him by the ankle and that was enough for Lucien to feel the wind whip around them again. When it stopped it was grass under the palms of his hands but marble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look what the cat dragged in.” Lucien stilled, he knew that voice. It haunted him at night and was burned into the darkest crevice of his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up he was face to face with the human queen who had gone into the Cauldron young and came out an immortal old woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And beside her, stood his father. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now listen, I honestly love that Feysand got their happy ending, I do. I just think it couldn't happen at a worse moment. I thought it was a meh plot point before, but when they said they had the death pact together? Fuuuuck. There's so much wrong with that especially if they're parents.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. This is My Catalyst For Growth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oop only two chapters left</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So are we going to ignore how Az is literally glowing?” Cassian asked, glancing over at his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really don’t think you want to know,” Rhysand said, “because I don’t want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t kiss and tell,” Azriel answered, “which is something neither one of you can say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I don’t fuck in the dining room,” Rhysand teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you just get your dick sucked in the war tent while my guts were hanging out a few tents over,” Cassian fired back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ho-How do you know about that?!” Azriel swore Rhysands eyes were ready to fly out of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could we NOT know?” Cassian said incredulously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could smell it on you after,” Azriel explained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched with a sly smile as his brothers argued. It was like this before Amarantha and the war. They used to bicker and fight in good fun. He missed those days. Times where Rhysand didn’t have the weight of an entire court on his shoulders and Cassian bore the brunt of leading an army. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as Cassian was about to mimic Rhysand once again to get a reaction, something chilled Azriel’s bones. His shadows frazzled and began to whisper frantically. Something was wrong. He could feel it building. The shadows kept getting louder and louder. Both of his brothers turned to look at him, worry in their eyes as they called his name but he couldn’t hear. All he could hear were the shadows whispering over each other. Then one curled over his ear and breathed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lucien.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic seized him as fear gripped their bond. He shot out of his seat as it grew, ebbs of pain joined it not long after. Cassian screamed his name as they followed him when he began to head outside. He knew he shouldn’t have let him go alone. What if Tamlin got his hands on him? He would rip the High Lord apart, no heir be dammed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel,” Rhysand’s calm voice finally pulled him out of his head, “what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something wrong with Lucien,” he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go, I’ll send word to Vassa,” Rhysand said, turning to Cassian, “go with him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing he noticed was the metallic twinge of the air. Blood. Enough of it for the scent to carry outside. He snarled, bursting through the doors. A few feet from him stood Tamlin, finally in his human, covered in blood. It stained his hair, his mouth and chin, his hands and went down the front of his bare chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel saw red. There was too much of it for the person to be alive. He couldn’t think straight. Although the bond pulsed weakly, that meant nothing as he saw Tamlin standing there in what could possibly be his mate’s blood. Lucien could be somewhere dying and all Azriel could think to do was rip Tamlin’s throat out before going to find him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“el...az...Azr...Azriel!” Cassian’s voice finally brought him back. When had his brother held him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not Lucien’s blood!” Cassian screamed, “it belongs to Eris’s missing soldiers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” Azriel snarled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien winnowed there. He was injured, I lunged for whatever was trying to drag him away, he was gone and in his place were Eris’s soldiers,” Tamlin explained, “I tried to help him, I swear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I fucking believe a word you say?” Azriel snapped. Tamlin sighed, pushing his bloody hair from his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I loved Lucien once,” Tamlin answered, “I still do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucking broke him,” Azriel growled. He could not find it within himself to feel pity for the male standing before him. Maybe there would’ve been a time where they suggested trying to help him. A different version of himself that hadn’t witnessed the traumed he had caused Lucien and Feyre. Long before they were his mate and High Lady, Azriel had decided that he would not forgive this male for what he had done to them. For the pain and scars they still carried with them he believed Tamlin didn’t deserve peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tend to do that with the things I love,” he mumbled, sounding dejected which only made Azriel thrash even more in Cassian’s grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll send more scouts to search the area where he disappeared,” Eris told them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suddenly you care about him too? After all those years you and your brothers spent torturing him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better silence you Shadowsinger, brute, he knows nothing of my love for my brother,” Eris snarled, “and the sacrifices I’ve made to keep him safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit!” Azriel screamed as the bond throbbed with more urgency. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go, Az,” Cassien mumbled and began to drag him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me go!” Azriel snarled, “I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now is not the time brother,” Cassian said, “let’s go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Azriel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rhysand’s voice filtered into his mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>to find Lucien we need to focus our energy elsewhere. Come home.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mention the order in Rhysand’s words, but he couldn’t ignore it. The shadows swallowed them but Azriel could not stop looking at the blood painting the entrance of the mansion. If they had any part of it Azriel would kill them. He’d rip them apart and break them in ways that made the death inflicted by the Death Gods look merciful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would not rest until he found Lucien.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhysand’s head hung as Feyre paced. Lucien was gone. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>missing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was no sign of him in Prythian and he had never made it to Vassa. The worst thoughts swirled in Rhysand’s head and had haunted him for the past few weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien in the hands of his brothers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hybern taking him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien back under Tamlin’s tight hold while the High Lord lied to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead </span>
  </em>
  <span>somewhere on the continent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cassian and Azriel are back,” Feyre whispered. Soon enough, his other brothers were solemnly walking into his office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhysand stayed silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still nothing,” Azriel finally spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Cassian whispered, his voice cracking as he fell into one of the seats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sent spies to the continent,” Azriel said, “I’m not going to stop until we find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…” Rhysand whispered, laying a hand over the male’s shoulder, “we will find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will. And then we’ll deal with whoever did this to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien’s head was pounding. After facing his father and Briallyn he had received a hefty boot to the jaw, knocking him out. It was a familiar feeling to be kicked around by his father. At least this time he didn’t have to apologize for getting blood on his brother’s shoes after. There was nothing in his mind. He didn’t dream, or remember, or think of a single thing. It was just darkness until he began to feel the pressure around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stench of Faebane filled his nose and he wanted to gag. Opening his eyes he could see the shimmering dust coating every inch of the walls. Next he felt the chains on his wrist. They were familiar, the same one’s Ianthe had used on him. He tried to yank his hand away but his injured shoulder screamed in protest. He searched for a way out, any way, but there were no windows and no cracks in the wall he could use. The door was made of wood, which would not normally be a problem, but he could recognize the certain shade that only belonged to ash wood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was trapped with no way out. It seems like his luck had run out much sooner than he expected. He knew his luck would run out one day, he just hoped he’d have more time with his new family. But Lucien had never been that fortunate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel...sit,” Rhysand said, but Azriel knew he was nervous. He could tell in the way that he wasn’t sitting and leaning on his desk instead. How he kept glancing at the portrait of Feyre that hung behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to sit, Rhys. I’m busy,” Azriel muttered. Being pulled from a meeting to plan another espionage mission to the continent to search for Lucien...again. Every single one brought failure after failure. No one had even heard a whisper of where he could be. It was as if he vanished into thin air after being pulled from the Spring Court. “Let’s just….let’s just get this over with please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to pull your spies out,” Rhysand said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He growled. It was as if he was telling him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandon his mate</span>
  </em>
  <span> wherever he was. To leave him to die. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel had gone to the ends of the earth for Feyre whenever Rhysand asked. Then without having to need him to ask. He risked his life going to save Elain when Feyre had been shut down by everyone else. So many of Rhys’s resources were redirected to finding a way to save Feyre and the baby, if his spies were pulled out then no one would be looking for Lucien. He would be condemning his own mate to death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too dangerous. If one of them gets caught and she uses the crown on them we would be in serious danger,” Rhysand said, “if she ties it back to you Lucien’s life could be in more danger than it already is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking me or ordering me?” He rasped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Azriel flinched at the innate need to follow his High Lord’s orders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my brother and I love you,” Azriel whispered, “but if he dies, I will never forgive you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, Rhysand did not answer as Azriel turned and walked away. He didn’t let himself fall apart until he was outside where his silent sobs wouldn’t be seen by anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t a part of Lucien that wasn’t throbbing painfully. With every breath he took his ribs protested and he thought his chest would cave in. His head swirled as someone pulled on his hair to force him to look up. Tears streamed down his cheeks. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to keep them from falling, they still stained his bloodied skin. The Faebane burned his nostrils and gave her perpetual nausea. He just didn’t know it would sever his connection with Azriel. As much as he tugged or reached down the bond he always ran into an invisible wall. The only thing telling him that his mate was alive was the dim flicker of a shadow so far in the distance. But he savored it, he held onto that small fragment that wasn’t blocked out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tell us the truth Lucien at it would all be over,” Briallyn crooned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first he wondered why wouldn’t she just use the crown on him? Why go through the trouble of locking him away? He got his answer with the first blow from his father. No. Beron was not his father. Helion was. Yet he still recoiled at his presence. The fear he instilled him as a child never went away. The sadistic look in his told Lucien everything he needed to know. Beron enjoyed this. It gave him pleasure to watch Lucien bleed and beg for his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sobbed, crying out as the whip cracked against his back again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re going too soft on him,” Briallyn, despite being an old hag, pouted at Beron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mate, the Shadowsinger, he would have told you,” Beran growled, “so, where is the mask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear! I swear he didn’t tell me,” Lucien cried out, his voice trailing off, “please...stop…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another crack of the whip was all the response he got. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said Lucie, you tell us and we let you go home,” Briallyn said, “I’ll even heal you before you leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“How do you handle the pain?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lucien had once asked Tamlin as he shakily sank down into the bath after hunting down a bogge. He knew his friend was often sore after being in his beast form for so long, his bones aching to shift back to their Fae form. It’s the fate that came with being the High Lord that was never meant to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I ignore it. I just...I give myself over to the beast.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien didn’t have a beast. There was no other form he could slip into. The Fox wasn’t real; it was just as fake as the mask he wore for so many months before Azriel tore him out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had memories. So as the whip cracked against his back again and the blood oozed down his back, Lucien thought of Azriel. He thought of how his hair was always tousled in the mornings and his eyes always so sleepy when they first opened. He ignored the pain and imagined how his mate’s scarred hands felt against his cheeks whenever he cupped them. His thumb always running over his own scars. Or how despite knowing how to pull a male’s intestines out without killing him, he was always so gentle whenever he grabbed Lucien. Even when they sparred Azriel always let Lucien go to him, never once did he swing. It used to annoy him and he whined endlessly about it until Azriel floored him before he could blink. Then he begged him to show him how to do it too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So even though the whip kept cracking against his back, Lucien sank into the little bit of the bond that was there and gave himself to his mate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucien. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucien wake up it’s me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Open your eyes for me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Lucien.</em>
  </b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes lazily opened to the sound of Azriel’s voice. But when he glanced around the cell it was void of anyone but him. The shadows didn’t flicker or move, a telltale sign that Azriel was watching over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. He was alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So painfully alone. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think this is the shortest chapter of them all, but this is really just a transition into what comes next. I promised the next chapter will be longer!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I Know I Will Survive This</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally a very special character is introduced in this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He could hear the priestesses train. He wouldn’t look up to see them, but hearing their soft pants and occasional whine grounded him. There was a flicker. Deep inside him something became brighter. It was like a small flame suddenly becoming hotter, stronger and then reducing to nearly nothing. It made his hands tremble as he tangled in his hair. Lucien was reaching for him yet Azriel couldn’t reach back. No matter how hard he tried every time he got close to the flame it would burn him. But he was alive. Even if there was no way to comfort him and no success in finding him Azriel would cling to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the unknown that was killing him. What if he was being tortured? What if he was scared? In pain? The darkest parts of Azriel whispered to him that they had used the Crown on Lucien. It was the strategic thing to do. He probably would’ve done it if he was Briallyn. Lucien, who held the secrets of four Prythian courts. Lucien, who had friends and family and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mate</span>
  </em>
  <span> in each. Lucien, who made regular appearances as a male to be feared in Elain’s visions. Lucien could be their downfall. And if that was the case it would kill him, break him in a way that Azriel didn’t think he’d be able to help put back together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He refused to listen to that part of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Nesta’s voice did not make him look up. When she got no reaction Azriel felt her nudge his knee a bit. “Want to spar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that made him look up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to fight me,” he said, trying not to wince at how tired and defeated he sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not trying to fight you.” She extended her hand. Azriel hesitated for a moment but then Nesta waved her hand gently. Her skin was cold against his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to remind himself to be gentle. Nesta was not like Cassian or Rhys. A blow, even accidental, from him would not only hurt but severely wound. To his pleasant surprise she kept up with him easily. They both upped their strength and let loose the longer they went on. Until Azriel had to grab her by the back of her leather so she would fall flat on her face. She was eager to continue but sudden exhaustion and nausea tugged him inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely made it to his bathroom before he was dry heaving into the toilet. This was another feeling he had become accustomed to. Whatever they were doing to Lucien sent him spewing into the toilet more often than he cared to admit. He didn’t want to worry Rhys when he had so much to be concerned with and if Cassian found out there was no way he’d let Azriel continue to look for Lucien. So he settled for vomiting on his own. With each retched his fingers gripped the porcelain bowl tighter. It cracked under the pressure but he didn’t stop. His leathers had started to be a little too big, he had solved that by tying them tighter around his body but if he continued this way he’d have to commission a new set. Then people would talk. Why would he need to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>down </span>
  </em>
  <span>a size instead of up? It would look bad. He slid down to the floor, feeling the cool tile against his hot cheek. The bond throbbed painfully as exhaustion shut his eyes for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would hold onto that pain. It was the only thing telling him Lucien was still alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The days began to blur into weeks. Lucien couldn’t feel anything other than the biting pain of the chains on his wrist. The same wretched chains Ianthe had used on him once. He had tried to break free, he had thrashed in them until blood trailed down his arms and the bones in his arms groaned.  He gave up before he could break them, letting his hands hang open wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was fucked. The wounds weren’t healing. His skin felt boiling and throat dry. The deep slash in his side was red and blistering with puss leaking out any time he moved. The thin visible veins around it was what worried him, blood poisoning. An exasperated laugh left his lips. There was no way to heal himself and no healer was being brought to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in Azriel’s arms with his deep voice whispering sweet nothings to him. If he closed his eyes he could still Azriel on the morning he left. With soft his and sleepy eyes. That image would stay close to his heart. It was the only thing keeping him alive. He would see Azriel again and he’d kiss him more passionately than he ever had before. They’d hold each other in sleep and dance on Starfall. He’d tell Azriel he loved him so much his mate would grow tired of hearing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father had tried to kill him before and failed. Lucien would not let him succeed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helion, my love, you need rest,” Hemera said softly. He could feel her fingers trying to smooth out his long hair but he ignored her and continued to pour over the current book he was searching for answers. This was something he could control. If he stopped looking he’d fall apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a break,” Bronte said from where he was crouched down next to him. His hand hovered over Helion’s before gently laying it on top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t find him. I can’t help looking for him. But I can help Rhysand in this. Lu-Lucien would want me to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He would not want you to work yourself into an early grave,” Brontes said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If that was the case, then Lucien would gain his power and maybe then he’d be able to escape. But Helion knew it would crush his son to lose him before their relationship really began. His son would need his father when he returned. He didn’t dare to think ‘if’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“High Lord, the Shadowsinger is here to see you,” a voice called out through the door. Helion swallowed and cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Send him in,” he called out, straightening his shoulders. There was no doubt his son’s mate would be a mess. So even if he could not help in looking for him, he would be strong for him. For both of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helion,” Azriel greeted tiredly as he slipped through the door. The Shadowsinger looked worse for wear. It was too similar to how Lucien looked those few weeks in his care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel,” he greeted back, “sit, please. You look tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could say the same about you,” he scoffed, taking a seat across from Helion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll bring you both some food. It’s just about lunch,” Brontes said, pulling Hemera out with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything on him yet?” Helion asked tentatively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He sighed, that was not what he was hoping to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell Rhysand I still haven’t found anything yet,” Helion mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m here for,” Azriel said, making Helion’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Instead he pulls a necklace out of one of his pockets, gently setting it on the table. Helion took it into his fingers. It was a delicate thing yet something about it hummed. The magic pulsed off it in waves as if it was searching for something. It was a simple bronze maple leaf yet it shimmered yellow and red. The colors pulsed with it’s magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this,” he mumbled, “I can feel it’s magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Lucien’s,” Azriel said, “I didn’t know he had it but the other night it began pulsing. It made my shadows haywire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s powerful,” Helion noted, the magic crawling down his fingers and up his arms, “it’s made of the same material as his eye. I do not doubt that the same person who made his eye made him this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nuan? Would she tell me what it is for?” He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Nuan may have made the necklace but this magic...this is Lucien’s,” Helion said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Magic. Everyone has a different sort, even if they appear similar. There’s signatures hidden within it where someone skilled enough could see it. It’s how I began to learn how to break spells, through their signatures. Most people don’t even realize they leave them behind,” Helion said, “I’ve see this signature before in other things Lucien has practiced here. A flaming solar flare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you...can you see it?” Azriel choked out as Helion handed the necklace back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a feeling more than something to be seen,” he said, watching as Azriel slipped it on and tucked it under his leathers. “As much as I hate to admit this...Tamlin might know more about this than I do. Lucien probably got this done while he lived at the Spring Court.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was on my way to see Vassa and Jurian anyways. I’ll make a pit stop,” he mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel,” Helion said quickly, stopping the shadow singer before he could leave. “Is he...can you feel him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” he whispered, closing his eyes, “he’s alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I was asking,” Helion whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what else you want to hear then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That he’s alright,” Helion whispered, tears burning his eyes. Azriel’s sympathetic gaze made his stomach churn painfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Helion,” Azriel whispered back, slipping through the doors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helion did not feel his knees slammed against the marble floor. The vague sting didn’t bother him as he watched the door where his only connection to Lucien had just walked out of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Lucien,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it kill you to not wander as a beast?” Azriel snapped as Tamlin stepped out of the forest. The High Lord beats huffed before he shifted back into his human form. It shouldn’t have bothered Azriel to see how wasted away Tamlin looked, yet it did. It bothered him because he knows deep down inside that it would’ve bothered Lucien. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Tamlin snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This,” Azriel said, carefully taking the necklace off and dangling it for Tamlin to see. He stilled when he caught sight of it, his fingers extending for it. It took everything in Azriel not to snatch it back as Tamlin took it into his hands and observed it with...affection? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave it to Lucien,” he whispered, “right after we had been cursed with the masks. He felt so guilty about it I...gave him this for his birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does it do?” He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea,” Tamlin admitted, “I gave him the necklace with no magic. Later on he gave it to Andras. Only then did it have magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he didn’t tell you what it did?” He asked. “Andras?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did,” Tamlin hummed, sitting on the front steps of Rosehall, never taking his eyes off the necklace. Azriel wanted to rip it out of his hands but the expression on Tamlin’s was painfully familiar. He had seen it in Rhys’s face when he first returned him too many times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t figured it out yet?” He asked and Azriel glared in response, “It’s made of the same material as his eye. Like calls to like. He turned it into a tracker so Andras and he could always find each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His blood froze. There it was, the key to finding Lucien, and it had been hiding in his room this entire time. They could’ve found him and brought him </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he had just found it earlier. His throat was dry as he approached Tamlin when the High Lord offered the necklace back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does it work?” His voice was tight, raw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I don’t know,” Tamlin sighed, “it was his most closely guarded secret. I’m not sure he even told Andras how it worked. I think he intended for it to find Andras, never for Andras to find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Azriel asked, watching with careful eyes as Tamlin stood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Lucien ever tell you why he never left his father’s clutches earlier? Why didn't he just run away with Jesminda?” Tamlin asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Azriel said, “I assumed he didn’t want to leave his brothers, as cruel as they were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was only half true,” Tamlin mumbled, “Lucien always saw the good in his brothers until the end. He couldn’t leave because no one can leave the Forest House if Beron doesn’t want them to. Lucien had never left before he came here. Beron only let him leave because he never believed that Lucien could out run Rori, Carmine, and Ambrose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That revelation changed everything. No matter what Lucien could’ve done there was no way for him to leave. Had it not been for Jesmina’s death, Lucien could still be stuck there. He would’ve never left. In her death, Jesmina granted something precious to Lucien: freedom. It seems like Lucien’s previous loves have always given him something that pushed him closer to his mate. It pained Azriel that Lucien lost two people so precious to him, but without them they would have never met. He would have to thank and honor them properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I did the same thing to Feyre.” Tamlin’s words made Azriel snap out of his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you find him, Shadowsinger, tell him I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For all of it,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell him yourself,” Azriel said, “I’ll find him and I’m bringing him home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’d want to see me,” Tamlin scoffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t want to see you like this either,” Azriel said, “he still cares about you. I don’t know why he would after everything you did to him, but he does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. But you wasting away does not fix or make what you did go away,” Azriel said, “if you die with no heir the other High Lords will not think twice about carving up your land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you telling me this?” Tamlin snarled, but the tears in his eyes betrayed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because as they do it, I know it would hurt Lucien,” Azriel snarled back, “this was his home, his people. You either get yourself together or we wait for you to wither away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care?” Tamlin spat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not mistake yourself Tamlin, I don’t. But I can’t watch you let his court fall apart,” Azriel said. “Whenever you decide to get your shit together, send for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said his court,” Tamlin whispered as he turned away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. This is his court. His people. He took better care of them than I ever did. If this is all that is going to be left of him here, I won’t let his effort go to waste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel bit his tongue and flew off even though he really wanted to tell Tamlin that Lucien’s legacy would be larger than his meager court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyx was nothing short of beautiful. The most precious treasure the Night Court had. A perfect blend of its leaders. Seeing Mor holding the chubby baby almost made him forget of what almost happened. What could’ve been. His eyes were so distinctly Rhys’s, the stars shining in them as well even though he was so young. One of his chubby hands was wrapped around Azriel’s fingers and the pain in his chest was soothed for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to love your Uncle Lucien,” Azriel breathed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll bring him back just for you,” Mor cooed, gently rocking him. He gurgled happily as he looked up at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s going to love you so much,” Azriel whispered, “and teach you all about the Autumn and Day Courts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel,” Rhysand’s voice made him look up. With a nod he gently pulled his finger away and followed his brother out to his office. Inside Cassian, Nesta, and Feyre were sitting on the various chairs, well Feyre was laying down in one of the couches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He questioned Feyre, who rolled her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” she said, “I was cleared by Madja to be able to walk around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And shouldn’t you also be resting,” He directed his gaze at Nesta, who still looked exhausted from saving Feyre. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fresh air and shit,” she mumbled, “I’ll rest when he’s home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d be angry to see both of you not resting,” Azriel said, it was a low blow but if it got them into bed where they should be he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eris heard something about Lucien and...sit Az,” Rhysand said gently. It made his heart nearly stop. Lucien was alive, he could still feel him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he breathed, “just say it, I know he’s alive still so spit it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eris said Beron was saying Lucien does not have much time left,” Rhysand said softly, “I already sent your spies back into the continent. With Briallyn dead and the chaos now they won’t be noticed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long ago did you send them?” He whispered, sitting down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few days,” he said, “we should hear something any minute now. That’s why I called you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just in case it’s bad news,” he whispered, “or am I wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Rhysand said, kneeling in front of him, “so that if it is, and I’m not saying it will be, then we’d be here for you. We will always be here for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He can’t...we were supposed to…” his voice trailed off as there was a knock on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need more time?” Rhysand said gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, let them in. I...I need to know,” Azriel whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhysand opened the door and a young spy slipped through. Azriel recognized them immediately. How could he not? Mikhail was his own nephew, one who had broken away from his father’s clutches and fell into Azriel’s arms by pure accident. The first thing that struck him about his nephew was how much he looked like his grandmother, Azriel could see all of his grandmother’s features in this young boy and none of his brother’s. It warmed parts of him to see green eyes look back at him instead of honey whenever Mikhail looked at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We found him,” Mikhail whispered, but something in eyes betrayed the surge of joy Azriel felt. They looked so...haunted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?” Azriel asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He winnowed into the border with the Day Court an hour ago,” Mikhail said, “it’s...you should go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is he?” Azriel asked, “Just tell me. Do not hold back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any longer and he’d be dead,” Mikhail said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he now?” Rhysand asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wanted to see his father,” Mikhail said, “and Helion did give us much of a choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only then did he notice the bandages on Mikhail’s arms. The exhausted look on his face despite being so young. For a moment Azriel wondered if he made a mistake in giving into the boy’s desires to become a spy when he was still barely 17. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Cassian asked, glancing over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. But you should go...Uncle,” he stammered awkwardly over the last word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, nephew,” he said softly, patting his shoulder when he walked past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come Mikhail, you’ve been away for so long you haven’t met my mate yet,” Rhysand said, “let me introduce you and then introduce you to your new cousin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh um...are you sure?” he said, ducking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Rhysand assured him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azriel nodded and watched Mikhail fumble through meeting Feyre and Nesta before backing away. The tension in his chest eased as he stepped outside and shot into the sky. Lucien was home. He was home and safe. They could deal with the rest later. For now, he just wanted to hold him in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for the first time since Lucien was gone Azriel felt like he could breathe. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mikhail! I've had Mikhail hidden since I started this series! I can't wait for you to read what I have pre-written for him, he's so precious and I love him so much.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I’ll Be the Strongest Person I Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry if this is a little short and not great. I had a health scare and I wasn't in the right headspace to write. Once I started to feel a little better I wrote this because I wanted to update for you guys.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In seconds he was at the Day Court. There were a flurry of guards surrounding him as the shadows faded. He immediately recognized Hemera and Brontes as they sent them away. Both pairs of eyes were full of relief as Brontes told him to follow him to Helion’s room. It wasn’t the first time he had been there, Lucien hid in there often enough in his weeks away that Azriel was very familiar with the golden double doors. Brontes pulled the door open slightly, cocking his head for Azriel to go first. He swallowed, his mouth dry, and stepped inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the floor, in a pool of silks and limbs, Lucien was clinging to Helion as he sobbed. There was blood crusting all over Lucien’s body and it permeated through the air until it was all Azriel could smell. Without thinking he dropped to his knees next to them, his hands ghosting over Lucien’s trembling form. One tan hand reached out and gripped Azriel’s scarred one. Helion’s voice was booming orders as Azriel kept his eyes on Lucien. There was something different about Lucien that Azriel could not place. His eyes scanned over Lucien’s face, his shoulders, his arms, his body but nothing was different. Their bond flared on his side, but despite Lucien’s visible distress his side of the bond was...oddly calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Azriel breathed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az,” he sobbed, clinging harder to Lucien. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need a healer </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Helion growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wait was agonizing. It took too long for the healers to come, then even longer for them to pry Lucien away Helion. He left bruises behind on Helion’s dark skin. Even Helion seemed surprised. Lucien wasn’t as strong as them. Where they were strong he was swift and fast. But never strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Lucien,” Azriel tried to soothe him, running his fingers through his mate’s fiery red hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the healer managed to pull Lucien out of Helion’s arms she took one look over. Then another. Then another. Azriel got anxious as she stayed silent. His hands trembled as he watched her poke and prod his mate. Despite the eerie calm Azriel felt on Lucien’s side of the bond, his mate flinched and whimpered when he had to. It almost looked...rehearsed. When the healer finally turned to them both males stiffened. Azriel expected her to list off various injuries, things that would take time to heal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s perfectly fine,” she said instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Helion questioned, “He’s covered in blood, how can he be fine?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I was h-healing myself,” Lucien stammered, “wh-while waiting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Helion breathed, cupping his son’s cheeks, “You should’ve saved your energy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m-I’m sorry,” Lucien whimpered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, my sun, it’s alright,” he soothed, pulling Lucien close to his chest and running his fingers through his matted hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up and resting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help him,” Azriel said, stepping forward. Gathering Lucien in his arms, he lifted him and carried him out. Brontes led him to what was once Lucien’s room with a bathroom. Setting Lucien down on the toilet, he began to fill the tub. It was a too familiar scene to the day of Feyre and Rhysand’s mating ceremony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too cold,” Lucien whispered, “please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Azriel mumbled, making sure the water was warm enough before helping Lucien up and into the tub. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It immediately turned dark as Azriel poured water over his shoulder and through his hair. His skilled fingers worked through each knot as he drained the tub and refilled it. Their only companion in the silence was the sound of the water sloshing around.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Illyrian…” Lucien began, “the one who found me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mikhail,” Azriel said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He looks like you,” Lucien mumbled, his fingers swirling the darkening water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would make sense if he does, he is my nephew,” Azriel said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nephew? You never mentioned him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was on the continent for the duration of the war. The minute Amarantha’s reign ended I sent him away. He’d suffered enough under his father,” Azriel mumbled, “I swore not to speak of him until he returned. He came just in time to be sent off to find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s good, isn’t he?” Azriel’s blood chilled at the even tone of Lucien’s voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he mumbled, scrubbing his mate’s scalp, “he’s the kindest child to be born in Illyria. He was never meant for it, he was always destined for better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his cheek against them. The silence lingered as Azriel continued to wash his hair until the fiery red was back on full display. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s young,” Lucien mumbled, “too young for war. You did the right thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was terrified of fighting. I knew if he asked me to be sent away and it got word back to Illyria they’d kill him for cowardice so I sent him away before he could even ask to speak to me,” Azriel mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he going to stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With us, if you don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I trust him if you do,” Lucien mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. I trust him with you,” Azriel said softly, stroking his cheek. Lucien smiled tiredly as Azriel drained the tub once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired,” Lucien sighed, the rigidness he held beginning to melt away. Only then did he begin to see the male as the mate he recognised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being kidnapped would exhaust anyone,” Azriel said, “Lucien...are you sure you’re alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lucien said, “have I done anything to make you think otherwise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s what worries me. You were gone for...for weeks…” Azriel’s voice cracked, “I felt your pain, yet you’re sitting here like nothing happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please...if you feel…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azriel, love,” Lucien hummed as he cupped his mate’s tan cheeks with his wet hands, “I’ve never felt better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he knew Lucien would want to go see Nesta and the other Valkyrie. He just didn’t Lucien would ask him to take him there the minute they winnowed into Velaris. Just as he began to relax again, that unfamiliar Lucien returned. The one with rigid shoulders and cold eyes. It reminded him of their first visit to Windhaven, the male standing next to him on the training grounds was not Lucien Vanserra his mate, he was the Fox of Prythian. Azriel never understood why so many people were so distrustful and weary of Lucien, but seeing the Fox made him understand. Lucien was extremely dangerous, he just never presented himself that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien, thank the Mother you’re alright,” Cassian breathed as he pulled the smaller male into his arms. Lucien hugged him back with limp arms. Azriel narrowed his eyes, Lucien was fine a second ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad to be back,” Lucien said as Cassian pulled away, Nesta stepping up. His auburn and golden eye traced the space between them as if he could physically see the bond tying them together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien,” Nesta said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you finished the Blood Rite,” Lucien said, pride in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t make it to Ramiel,” she said, “Gwyn and Emerie did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. You showed them you are not to be messed with,” Lucien said, “that’s more important than a title.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They still wouldn’t respect women whether all three of us reached the top or not,” Nesta said, “sexist bastards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then,” Lucien’s lips stretched into a cat-like smile that made Azriel’s blood chill, “you should’ve just razed the camp before giving away your power.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on Nesta’s face was a mix of anger, shock, and fear. Power emitted off Lucien in waves. It made Azriel’s knees nearly buckle and he could see Gwyn and Emerie shiver from where they stood a few feet away. This power wasn’t the same as before. This felt controlled, intentional, whereas before Lucien’s power came out by accident. Never was it so cold. It felt closer to what he had felt when Nesta had worn the mask than when Lucien was writhing in bed after Windhaven. The eyes that looked back at him did not belong to his mate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes it was the same scent, the same skin and the same bones. The male standing next to him was his mate in body, but the spirit inside was different. Something was wrong and Azriel had walked them all into the wolf’s den. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien?” Azriel mumbled, making him blink. The power disappeared when he glanced back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said Feyre wants me to meet the baby,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, you need rest,” Azriel said softly, looking back at the newly mated pair, “I’m taking him back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Azriel pulled Lucien into his arms and shot into the sky he couldn’t get a good look at his face but he could’ve sworn he was scowling as they flew. When they landed on his balcony, however, it was gone. In its place was a neutral expression.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to meet him,” Lucien said. Just as he was about to speak, Mikhail’s voice called him from inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s someone else I wanted you to meet,” Azriel said, a small smile spreading across his lips as he led Lucien inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mikhail was on the couch reading, or studying it was hard to tell with the mess of blankets and the fireplace. Instead of Illyrian leathers he was wearing a knitted sweater he recognized as one Mor gifted him which he then let Mikhail use. Although it was soft, it was an ugly pea-green. His green eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of Lucien. Mikhail visibly gulped, standing to reveal fluffy pajama pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to see you again, Mikhail,” Lucien said softly, Azriel knew he also noticed the slight tremble of Mikhail’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, I didn’t know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Mikhail,” Azriel assured him, gently pushing his nephew back down onto the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not intruding, Mikhail,” Lucien said, “I was glad to hear you’ll be staying with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-Are you sure?” His said, wide eyes following all of Azriel’s movements as he went to make tea. Lucien smiled as he sat across from Mikhail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mind if I take one?” Lucien asked, motioning to the blankets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Mikhail blushed, “I get cold easily, yeah sorry take one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An Illyrian who gets cold? I didn’t know they existed,” Lucien teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom isn’t Illyiran,” Mikhail mumbled, “or wasn’t. Never met her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien’s lips pressed into a thin line. That could’ve been Feyre. This could’ve been Nyx talking about her in past tense. Azriel can remember Mikhail’s mother like a distant dream. They had only met once and she wasn’t very pregnant, only a small bump. But he remembered thinking that she would die and what of the baby. It was a miracle Mikhail survived at all yet his brother will not treasure him. That was fine, Azriel would give all the love Mikhail didn’t receive from his father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Lucien said, “it must be painful then to see Nyx and Feyre.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” Mikhail admitted, “but that’s not fair to them. It’s not their fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright to be jealous,” Lucien said, Mikhail breathed out and gave him a warm smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, really,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavender for you, cinnamon for you,” Azriel handed them each their tea and held his mug of jasmine tea in his hands. He knew Mikhail would probably be asleep in a few hours, not too many hopefully since the sun was already starting to dip behind the horizon. His nephew struggled to sleep as it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cinnamon,” Mikhail said as his nose wrinkled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not knock it until you try it,” Lucien said with a teasing smile, “how long have you lived in Velaris, Mikhail? Your uncle kept you a well guarded secret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since I was 15,” he answered, “I asked him to keep me a secret, I’m sorry I didn’t think he’d keep it from his mate too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You made it clear you wanted no one to know of you,” Azriel said softly, “you are not my secret to share. I’ll only ever tell who you want me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Mikhail whispered, “I’m sorry...I just don’t want him to find me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” Lucien asked calmly, but Azriel could feel the flashes of fury because they matched his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My father,” Mikhail whispered, “he threatened to kill me if I ever came back but these days I think he’s looking for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did anything happen while I was gone?” Azriel asked. Mikhail fidgeted in his seat before shaking his head. “Mikhail. What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was here, in Velaris,” Mikhail whispered, “Cassian took me to the House of Wind, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Azriel growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he find you?” Lucien asked, moving to sit next to Mikhail when his shoulders began to tremble. The younger male shook his head but whimpered anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but he was so close,” he whispered, desperate eyes looked up at Azriel, “what if he finds me next time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There will be no next time,” Azriel said as he stood. He wiped a stray tear on Mikhail’s cheek before heading towards the balcony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be alright,” Lucien’s voice soothed. He turned long enough to see Mikhail begin to curl into his mate’s side. His wings were limp behind him as Lucien held him in his arms, running his fingers through dark hair. It made something in Azriel’s chest warm seeing Lucien act fatherly to Mikhail. As much as he wished to stay, he had an Illyrian to hunt down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to teach me that!” Mikhail said excitedly as he watched Lucien twirl his knife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A morning training session had been suggested after Mikhail’s fitful sleep. So as soon as the sun began to shine her first rays all three of them headed to the House of Wind to train. The other Valkyrie were given the day off so the training grounds would be empty for them. It was better that way, Lucien didn’t want to let Mikhail out of his sight and the protectiveness that had settled in his chest last night didn’t want him to be seen by anyone either. Had it been up to him they would’ve stayed holed up un Azriel’s apartment. He wondered if this is how Rhysand felt about Nyx. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you with knives?” Lucien asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very good,” Mikhail admitted, “I have shit aim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can work on aim,” Lucien assured him, “every morning we can practice it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” he asked eagerly. Lucien couldn’t help but smile. No wonder this kid would freeze Illyria, he was warm in a way none of the other Illyrians were. It made him wonder which court his mother was from and if the paler complexion of his wings had anything to do with it. If Lucien squined he could’ve sworn there were miniscule feathers on the places of his wings where there were bones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, what do you say Az? What if I turn him into a miniature version of myself?” Lucien asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t,” Azriel said with an eyeroll, “let me take you home love, I need to meet with Rhys and Mikhail is staying with Cassian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kicking me out?” Lucien teased, “go, Az, I’ll stay with Mikhail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien watched as his mate’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before nodding. Mikhail announced he was going to shower and they both nodded. Once he was gone Azriel’s friendly attitude faded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something wrong with you,” he said lowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Lucien countered, “I feel great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re planning something, I can see if in your eyes. Whatever it is, leave him out of it. He’s a fucking kid,” Azriel said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never put Mikhail in anger,” Lucien said honestly, “and yes, I am planning something. I’ll tell you soon, just give me time to get it together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever it is, Lucien, it’s not worth it,” Azriel begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assure you, Az, this is,” Lucien said, “so trust me. This is for the good of Prythian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucien…”Azriel said in a pained voice. Lucien hated lying to him, but it had to be done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az,” Lucien said, cupping his cheeks, “I’m your mate, trust me. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, Lucien,” Azriel said. Lucien pressed their lips together for a quick kiss before stepping back to let Azriel fly off. It didn’t take long for him to let the wind carry him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien turned back and began to head to the room that once was his. He could feel the house humm in discontent of him being there. A growl echoed in an empty hall only agitated the house more. He would not let an inanimate fucking thing ruin his plans. So he pressed his palm against the wall and sent a warning pulse of power. He could’ve sworn that the house whimpered in response, but he ignored it and carried onto his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t changed since he had last used it. That was fine, he wouldn’t need it again. He stepped into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. Only once he triple checked the lock on the door did he let the glamour fall off his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His entire posture loosened without the extra added weight of the glamour and the shield he had put on himself. Of course his mate would notice a change of scent, everyone would eventually pick up on it. But the physical change would be what gave him away that he wasn’t the same anymore. That whatever they had put him through on the continent made him different. Glancing at the mirror, he was able to look at his reflection. At first he didn’t recognize himself but as time went on Lucien realized this is what he should’ve always been. Had he just let the power locked away breather and flow through his veins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smirk spread across his face as he took in his longer, silkier hair. The fiery read had darkened slightly with what they had done to him. Lucien seemed ethereal, if it was possible to carry even more beauty than the High Fae. Golden tattoos swirled up his neck, down his chest, his arms and stopped at his navel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where there used to be one golden eye and one auburn eye there were now two auburn eyes that were flecked with gold. The scar Amarantha had given him was left behind. Good. He would not let himself forget who he once was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucien Vanserra had died on the continent. He was killed by the male he thought was his father for centuries in a dingy basement cell as he screamed and choked on his blood. What had come back was different...other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nesta had killed Briallyn. That was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This Lucien had much more planned than the death of one feeble Queen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prythian would pay for what they had put him and those he loved through. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oop.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally! I have been waiting for this part of the story for so long! This was the first thing I ever wrote for this, minus the so much Lucien and Azriel. I reworked it since I want to fit ACOSF in somewhat. </p><p>I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought in the comments!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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